The Sanctity of Thanksgiving
by peace-of-hope
Summary: Edward gives a whole new meaning to Thanksgiving. Elricest. Short one-shot. Lemon. Don't like, don't read.


_**THE SANCTITY OF THANKSGIVING**_

"Brother, could you please come help me with—ah!" Al jumped, nearly dropping the spoon he was using to stir up vegetables as Ed reached around from behind him and groped his chest.

"Yes?" Ed replied, nonchalantly.

Al blushed scarlet, setting the spoon down in the pan in order to free his hands so he could pry Ed's off his body. "Brother, I'm trying to cook!" he exclaimed in exasperation; Ed's hands were surprisingly hard to remove from where they were lightly rubbing his nipples. Finally, he was free from the hands and could return to sautéing the vegetables, a dish Ed had specifically requested.

Ed sighed. "Fine, fine, now what did you need help with?"

Al handed him a table knife. "Butter the bread, please," he instructed, motioning to the plate of bread laid out on the kitchen table. "And yes, you have to do it. You can't burn bread if there's no heat involved!"

His eyes narrowed as he heard Ed muttering something along the lines of, "I could _make_ some heat," and silently dared Ed to try. He sighed as he turned back to the vegetables, deviating from that task to check on the turkey. The fowl had turned a golden brown under the heat of the oven, with delicious smells of roasting herbs wafting through the air. Hints of citrus, used to help flavor the bird, mixed with the warm smell of pumpkin pie cooling on top of the stove.

"Done!" Ed told him, just as Al removed the turkey from the oven. "Now let's eat!"

Al smiled, carrying the magnificent bird out to the dining room table, nearly dropping it when Ed came up from behind and groped him again.

XXX

Al blushed heavily all through Thanksgiving lunch. Edward had not only eyed the turkey hungrily, but his brother as well. And while Al had suspected Ed was in one of his… hornier moods, to put it frankly, he had hoped Ed's lust would be staved off by the food.

Apparently Edward wanted a different kind of cream on his pie.

Al shuddered a little at the pool of warmth in his stomach, not from eating the hearty Thanksgiving food either. And since he had eaten so much, he _would_ need to exercise it off… Al's blush deepened. He was embarrassed to be thinking such thoughts over lunch like this!

"I'll help you clean up," Ed smiled, rising from the table. He was stuffed, but nowhere near satiated…

Al cleared his throat, the noise sounding like a small cough mixed with a squeak. "Oh, um, that would be great, thanks Brother!" Al stood up after him, grabbing the plates. He followed Ed into the kitchen, where he began to rinse off the dishes Ed piled on the side of the sink.

"This is the last of them," Ed placed the bowl that had held the rolls on the counter. "I'll put the leftover turkey in some Tupperware."

Al nodded his thanks as Ed disappeared from his line of vision. He went back to attempting to scrub some stubborn grease out of a pot. He nearly dropped said pot when he felt Ed's hand reach down his pants—down his underwear—and grasp his flaccid cock. The color drained from his face as all the blood rushed to his member, which gave a twitch under Ed's touch.

"Brother, what do you think you're doing?!" Al squeaked out as Ed moved and dropped to his knees in front of Al.

"Giving you a blow job," he stated, giving his brother's member a precursory lick.

Alphonse shivered, biting back a moan. "But the turkey!" he protested, worrying about the leftovers sitting out. Ed enveloped his member with the warm cavern of his mouth, pulling out to lick the tip and along the underside.

"Fuck the turkey."

XXX

"Uhn, fuck me!" Al panted, pressed against the kitchen table. The fingers probing his entrance, stretching him, weren't enough, even as they brushed his spot and sent him crooning in pleasure.

Ed's voice was heated, sultry, in his ear, "Gladly." He slicked himself up, and Al was very glad they'd strategically placed bottles of lube around the house. Granted, he never expected to use the one stored in the living room's side table drawer in the _kitchen, _of all places.

Ed kneed Al's legs open wider, pressing his brother further down onto the table so he would have easy access to his entrance. He lined up, the tip of his cock just barely touching the tight ring of muscle; Al whined, writhing around in an attempt to impale himself on Ed's cock.

His brother just chuckled before kissing Al's shoulder, seductively nipping at the skin, and gently pushed inside him.

Al bit his lip through the initial burn of the stretch, but the pain soon subsided as Ed retracted and thrust back inside. The friction was delectable, causing Al to moan, shaking at the sensation of his brother sliding in and out of his body.

Ed sped up his thrusts, keeping them deep to brush against that spot inside Al. Alphonse arched his back when he felt Ed hit his spot, letting out little noises in pleasure at each thrust. His cries only intensified when Edward's hand found his cock, stroking the sensitive flesh in time with his thrusts, running his thumb across the tip—

"Brother!" Al sobbed out Edward's name as he came hard in his hand, the milky fluid spilling over onto the table. Ed gave a throaty moan as Al's muscles contracted with his orgasm and he, too, came hard, inside his brother.

Al panted, trying to catch his breath. Edward gently pulled out of him once soft, wrapping his arms around Al's chest. Al smiled, then gasped as he looked at the wooden surface, covered in come, beneath them.

"Brother, look what you did to the table!"

XXX

"What are you thankful for Brother?" Al asked, smiling up at Ed as they lay on the sofa together, bathed in the afterglow. "I'm thankful for family, and love, and life," Al sighed in content.

Ed thought for a second. "Well, yeah, I'm thankful for that, too, but mainly sex." He laughed as he watched Al's face go from embarrassment to shock. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding." Al nodded, clearly not believing his brother: Edward had just groped him all morning and then fucked him over the kitchen table.

"Mm, happy Gropesgiving, Al," Ed smirked into his skin. Al blushed redder, grabbing a pillow and threw it at his brother, ranting about how Ed had ruined the sanctity of Thanksgiving.


End file.
